


You're an Angel Fallen Down

by Lxya



Category: Fall Out Boy, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: F/M, M/M, josh+debby have a child, main ship is jyler
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 07:06:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8046961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lxya/pseuds/Lxya
Summary: Twenty-two year old Josh's life is everything he could have asked for. He's got a beautiful, talented wife, a new baby boy, and the worst job in the world. He needs an escape from his boring life, and finds that in the eighteen-year old punk Tyler.





	1. A Lamb, A Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! I'd just like to thank you for deciding to give my work a try. I always tried to write the whole story before posting it, but found out that I lost faith in my stories too easily.
> 
> I'd like to say that I have nothing against any of the characters in this story. I love all of the people involved in this work. <3

Sun beat down on his face, causing the husband to swing an arm over his brow for protection. Even with squinted eyes, he was still able to see the tan skin and blonde hair that belonged to his wife. Josh smiled, walking forward to meet her halfway. The beach was crowded and hot, but they felt as if they were in their own space, just the two of them. Josh remembers it exactly, the crack of the waves as she’s gliding his hand across his stomach.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.” Debby shined a smile, looking beautiful as ever. Josh could easily fall in love with her over and over again. “There’s no time like the present, right?”

Josh moved a curly blonde lock away from her face and presses their foreheads together. He’s in a state of disbelief. He loves her more than the whole world, and the both of them couldn’t wait to start a family. Ever since Josh met Debby in school, she’d always been volunteering to help with neighboring elementary schools. Something inside Josh wants him to say they’re too young, that they should wait until Debby is finished with college. Another part of Josh wants to say to hell with waiting, if they want to do it, they will.

They shared ‘I love you’s and small kisses, Josh’s hand resting on her stomach the whole time, fatherly instincts telling him to protect her and the baby with his whole life.

Josh could have named numerous days that felt as if they were his favorite day. On his wedding, when he slow danced with his doll-faced wife in a gazebo. His graduation night, when Josh and his friends climbed up a water tower and spent their night at an amusement park, promising to never lose touch with each other. Josh could even say that his favorite day was when he proposed to Debby in the pouring rain at a restaurant. Truly, no day could surpass that one of being at the beach and learning of his son.

Josh suddenly heard crying, ringing, a rustling next to him, and before he knows he's left his dream state. He's up and pulling the sheets off of himself. The brunet searched under his body to find his phone, vibrating and playing a loud tone. The screen tells him that it's eight in the morning, and Josh feels a sigh pass through him at the thought of a boring Monday morning. Debby is cooing at their young baby boy who is all big eyes and blonde hair.

“You think he'd be used to it by now.” Josh chuckles, “I guess babies can't form a routine.”

He doesn't expect a response, just the continuation of cries from his son. Instead, his wife continues the discussion. Josh reminds himself that that's one of the things he loves about Debby, her ability to always find a way to respond. Her unpredictable self is how some of their favorite memories were created. Josh remembers the most recent event, where he came home to find a cotton candy machine in the middle of their living room, Debby and their son covered in pink.

His wife held their son, now rocking him back and forth. “Shh… It's okay baby.” Debby swayed back and forth. Josh held her waist and looked at their son over her shoulder. While most parents couldn't stop thinking of baby names, it took Debby and Josh a couple of days after birth to choose one for their child. They'd finally decided on Connor, settling in knee-deep Irish waters.

“I’m sorry to leave you with this, sweetie, but I have to get ready for work.” Josh’s hands fall back to his sides. Upon entering the bathroom, he is met with a mess of a reflection. Josh’s hair has grown out since his teenage years, but it seems like it will always look just as messy. He makes no attempt to brush it, just turns away and strips down, tossing his clothes into a hamper before getting into the shower.

Something about the light spots cast on Josh’s skin through the window calms him, and Josh turns his arms in every which way, watching the light dance over the curves of his body. For a minute, he forgets that he has a job to go to in less than an hour. Josh is returned to the world where his life is a boring daily routine. From this, he makes a mental note to take the new antidepressants he received yesterday.

Josh kisses his wife and baby goodbye, and Debby pulls him back to her in an attempt to straighten out his shirt, but is more so a loosely hidden way of getting a second kiss from her husband.

* * *

 

Josh’s work is given to him daily in a mailbox, and each day Josh scans through the financial records of bundles of people, matching them with the rest of their expenses and making sure they’ve paid their part, that there’s no offshore accounts. The only reason Josh hasn’t dropped this hell of a job yet is for the friends he is with. Often, the brunette will complain of a headache and hides from his work in the presence of his boss. He finds it ironic, and also feels a pang of guilt knowing that this mess will eventually bite him in the ass. Then again, if his boss didn’t approve of it, why would he let it happen?

Patrick is just an inch shorter than Josh, but that doesn’t stop the employee from reminding him about it any chance he can get. The shorter owns light brown hair and even lighter blue eyes, of which Josh is extremely jealous. The two sit and talk for hours, starting with the neighborly “how’s your wife?” “how’re your kids?” and soon enough they’re reminiscing about the rest of their group from high school. It wasn’t that long ago, was it? Only about three years ago since the festival, since the boys climbed that water tower and, in a cliché manner, said they were on top of the world.

The five of them, but Josh almost always felt like it was them and him, two different groups, four against one. He knows what stole him away from them, and he knows that it was definitely his fault that he had drifted away from his friends, he’d constantly declined their offers of going out late at night to scope out some girls. Still, even sitting here now, Josh almost feels like he and Patrick are in two different spheres. That he will just be an observer for Patrick, Pete, Andy, and Joe; a man to hold the camera.

Josh thinks that it’s always been that way, and maybe for a while he’s been giving up hope on finding a best friend. He has Debby, who he loves uncontrollably, but she’s a best friend in a _different_ type of way. Debby is the love of his life, no doubt about it. She and Connor are his family, and nobody could compare to them. “It’s just, everyone seems to have this _best friend_ , and I’m waiting for mine to show up.” he says to himself on the drive home, the radio turned low so Josh can give a soliloquy in his car.

“I don’t even know why I do this, I’m probably crazy or something.” He thinks aloud. Something reflects light into his eyes, and Josh is instinctively searching for it, blocking the beam of light with his hand. What he sees in the distance is a beautiful cathedral, and trees surrounding the paved road to it. Maybe he needs to reconnect with God in some way. Maybe he could just take five minutes out of his day and embrace the love of his creator, like he used to as a child, before everything went haywire. He’ll raise his hand in the air as the choir sings, he’ll become a member for a group, he’ll pray until he goes hoarse.

No, he can’t. He has to get home, has to make dinner for Debby and Connor. Has to fall asleep in front of the TV at seven, just to get up hours later and slump over in his bed.

Josh prays that the unpredictable in Debby will come out. He also prays that his God forgives him for not connecting with him recently. Shit, he’s so depressing nowadays.

 

“Hey, Deb, me and some guys are going out after work tomorrow. That alright?” He asks. Debby already knew that he would ask a favor, seeing as minutes prior, he stopped eating and just began pushing food around with his fork, occasionally scrunching up his face when the fork dragged on metal.

“Why would I have a problem with it?” She says, her brown eyes wide, and head tilted almost in the mannerism of a puppy.

“I just wanted to make sure we didn’t have anything planned.” He shrugs, getting up to get the heated bottle for Connor. Josh’s appetite was gone as soon as the question tumbled out of his mouth, he was full of guilt. In his head, he rationalizes that he needs this, some time away from the family and work, time to just relax and hear an organ or a choir.

 

Twenty times in the following day, Josh checks his phone for anything, anything that could interrupt his rendezvous with the church. Nothing, not a text or a call. He sighs, a headache has formed in the back of his head, and Josh lays his head down on his folded arms. Why is he so worried? Nothing will happen.

“Hey, Josh.” He’s being shaken awake. Josh sees a pale arm, leading up to the baby face of his boss. “What’s up, man?” You’ve been acting weird for a while now, and I’m not seeing a lot of work being done. You know I love you man, but unless you start to pick up the wagon…” Patrick trails off, and Josh can see that his friend feels bad confronting him like this. Every one of their friends had agreed that Patrick wasn’t cut out to be a boss; he was too soft and small. If anything, Patrick should be an ice-cream salesman or something along those lines.

Josh struggles finding a response, his head is a still a bit clouded with sleep that he didn’t know he had in the first place. “I-I’m sorry, Patrick. I’ll get on it, I swear. You know what it’s like with a new baby in the house.” Though Debby said Connor was quieter than most babies she had been around.

“I get that. Listen, I don’t have a problem with talking to you guys,” There are others? “I really don’t. The thing is, you spend more time with me than at your desk.”

“I mean, I thought we were just hanging out…” Josh trails, locking eyes with Patrick briefly.

“I don’t have a problem hanging with you, you know we’re buds, I mean, hell, we applied to the same job so we could work together!” Patrick leans on Josh’s desk, and right behind him is a tray full of work he’s been assigned to do, and Josh wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a coat of dust on it. “Listen, that’s the thing.”

“What ‘thing?’” Josh sits up, eyebrows knitted together. Patrick ushers Josh away from the rest of his co-workers, throwing a look over his shoulder at them. Ironically, they land in the very place Josh is told he can’t be in. “Some of the other employees are thinking that just because we’re friends, you’re getting… special treatment.”

“...Like what?” Patrick looks down, rubbing the pads of his fingers together. Josh takes notice of this, and calms his tone for the next sentence. “Oh, they think that I should be fired?” It comes out questioning, not aggressive, in an effort to get Patrick to open up with him more about this situation. Patrick nods.

“I’m sorry, Josh. You’ve gotta step it up, alright?” Patrick stands up straight in his position, almost as if he suddenly remembered who’s the boss and who’s the employee. Josh just looks through his friend, waiting for this to be over so he can return to his desk.. Patrick steps forward, holding out a hand, and, seeing how this conversation has gone so far, Josh half expects a firm handshake. “Pinky promise me that shit, dude.” Patrick laughs, unable to keep a straight face, and Josh can’t be mad at that, so he obliges.

The rest of the day, Josh is in his own world. It’s him and his work, none of the other employees’ matter. They don’t know that he’s got a new child, that he’s on new meds that could make him sick, that his head is only ninety-percent messed up, due to his… lack of sleep. Who are they to say he should be gone?

* * *

 

The drive to the church is long and winding, and Josh slows down to admire the trees when he notices that nobody has been on the road with him ever since he turned off of the highway. Earlier in the week, Josh and Debby assembled their first car seat, and locked it into the backseat, all the while Connor was watching from a highchair and playing with the gadgets put into it. During this time, Debby was trying to strike up a conversation on what they’re going to do when they’re both working again. Debby is near getting a degree in psychology. She said it had always amazed her how the brain works. Josh almost pointed out that her brain was telling her to say that, and was giving her those emotions, but he knew she would just smack him on the arm and call him dumb.

The church was just about empty as he walked through tall oak double doors. A few people would shuffle around, and he saw a group of people almost his age sitting in the pews, laughing. He felt uncomfortable, naked even, being all by himself in a place he hasn’t ever been to. Still, he put on a straight face and pressed on, sitting near the others so he wouldn’t look like a complete freak, which earned him a few looks thrown his way from them. Josh grabbed a bible just so he wouldn’t look like a complete idiot and tried not to focus on the group near him giggling and whispering to each other. Josh didn’t even know what they were doing in here, they looked like complete punks, and from what he remembered during his grunge period in high school, punks didn’t normally hang out in churches. To each their own, he shrugged.

The words in front of his face made no sense to him, and he figured it was a combination of him staring at papers and screens all day, and the anxiety of what the group was giggling about him. He hated the thought, that his depression had danced with anxiety, and the two were now living happily in his head. Debby would know something about that, he was sure of it. But he could care less about the psychology of it, he wanted it gone.

Josh was trying to make sense of the book when he saw something roll towards him. Pressing against his foot was a longboard, which made Josh to look towards the group. To his surprise, the rest of the punks had crept away, leaving only one of them. The boy had soft features and short dark brown hair, and was sitting backwards in the pew, his cheek laying on his arms.

Maybe it was the setting or the book he was still confused by, but Josh thought he looked evangelical. He shook those thoughts away and put down the bible.Josh waved a hand, not knowing how else to respond. He spews his name and it almost sounds like a hum against the silence. Josh couldn’t decide if their shared silence was either awkward or comfortable, the boy looked harmless, and he didn’t seem to be running for the doors, so he probably saw Josh the same way.

The boy is still staring at him with big, brown Bambi eyes. After a moment, Josh decides to push the board back to the teen.

“I’m Tyler.” The other responds, and Josh wasn’t expecting his voice to be so light. He sounds quiet, almost childlike. Josh nodded, letting himself properly take in the other. Tyler is slim, with the voice of a mouse and a small figure. His black shoes hang off the pew behind him, and Josh noticed that Tyler had black creeping up his fingers. Tyler didn’t seem to mind, he stared right into Josh’s eyes and let himself relax slightly. He changes position and lands a foot on the board, letting it roll back and forth under him. He passes it back to Josh, who, in return, prepares a question.

Josh has learned that when people are interested in talking to you, the worst thing you can do is shut them down by asking, “Why are you talking to me?” Instead, he asks Tyler where his friends have gone, and passes him the board.

“They…” His eyes wander a bit, anxiety racing up his throat with his answer, “They do that sometimes. It's just a prank.”

Josh is given the board. “Seems kind of rude of them to do that to you.” He wants to know the truth, wants to know what Tyler was hiding behind that sentence. Josh stands, longboard in hand, and sits next to Tyler in the pew. It has to look weird, a rebel sitting next to someone who is dressed like he's ready for the church service.

“I guess… They're harmless though.” Tyler looks at the rows extending towards the stage in front of him. He admires the stained glass, the organ, the symmetry of it all.

“I gotta ask, what are you doing in here?” Josh hopes it didn't come off rude, he's genuinely curious.

“My friends and I found this place a while back. It's a lot nicer than the abandoned building we used to hang in.”  Tyler chuckles, shaking his head. “It wasn’t anything cool. We were trying to be edgy.”

“I think abandoned buildings are pretty.” Josh smiles, leaning forward to catch Tyler’s eyes that were transfixed forward. The wood of the pew his hand rests on adjusts under his weight.

“They're not bad. I guess I just feel more comfortable here.” Tyler shrugs, sitting back and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“So you believe in God?”

Tyler takes his time answering. His mouth forms into different shapes, almost as if he doesn't know how to answer. Eventually, he settles on “It varies.”

“I'm right there with you.” Josh replies. “Y’know… I used to have a nose piercing too, like yours.”

“Oh. It's not real, I'm terrified of needles.” Tyler smiles, reaching up and pulling the clip out of his nose. He rolls it around in his paint-covered hands. Josh thinks, maybe this is some weird fashion statement.

“Did it hurt?” Tyler asks, eyebrows raised.

“Not at all! I'd totally get it redone if it weren't for my job.” He takes out his phone, looking through Facebook albums until he finds a photo of him with light green hair, white gauges, and a ring in his right nostril.

“That's pretty hardcore, for an old man.” Tyler grins at him.

“I'm not old! I'm twenty-two!” Josh retaliates, and Tyler rolls his eyes. “Yeah? Well I'm only eighteen, you old loser.” He mocks, and Josh feigns a scowl.

“If it weren't for my arthritis, I'd fight you right now, kid.”

“You're probably too slow, anyway.” Tyler manages to say through his laughter.

“Let's race, then. Me on the board, you running.”

“That's no fair, it's my board!”

“You gave it to me in the first place. What do you know? I could’ve ran off with it.” Josh stands, one foot already on the wood. He kicks off, and flies through the doorway, Tyler quick behind him.

“The first one to make it to the curve in the road wins.” Josh points, and Tyler nods. “I'm only agreeing to this because I respect my elders.” Josh has half a mind to punch him in the arm. He readies himself, grabbing the double doors next to him so he can boost himself forward. He rolls his eyes, there’s absolutely no competition here.

Unbeknownst to him, Tyler is an Olympic runner in disguise. After crossing the finish line, the younger turned around, arms locked on the back of his head, and threw an innocent smileto Josh as he waited for him. “What’s my prize?” he beams, eyes sparkling.

Josh’s brows rise. “You get your board back?” He offers, picking up the object and holding it out in front of him. Tyler takes the board and greedily asks for more. “What about… we meet again, my king.” He bows.

“That’d be great!” Josh answers. He sees the sun is lower in the sky, nearing the horizon. He needs to get home, anyway; needs to see his wife and child. “Where?”

Tyler shrugs in response, and asks for Josh’s phone so he can enter his number. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t you have a curfew, kid? Or school?” Josh jokes, to which Tyler rolls his eyes. “Like I said, grandpa, I’m eighteen. Officially an adult.” He pronounces it _ah-dult_ , which makes Josh smile. “Get your hearing aids checked.” Tyler adds, handing Josh his phone back. “And I’m taking a gap year. My ‘dream’ hasn’t worked out yet.” He adds air quotes around the word dream.

“Why’s that?” Josh slips his phone into his back pocket.

“It’s hard to get noticed in the music scene.” Josh responds with a hum. A few years ago he would agree, since he himself was trying to break into music. Now, he thinks he could have tried harder. He and a few friends created a band and tried playing covers of ska rock. Sessions daily turned into every other day, then weekly, and eventually nobody showed up in the garage to practice. Josh remarked the sweaty garage as a nice start, since many bands that had influenced them had claimed to get their start playing in garages. Their problem, most likely, was that they tried too hard to be like those other bands. Josh agrees with Tyler when he says a music career is definitely a commitment. Then, he asks Tyler to play for him sometime.

“I don’t know; my friends don’t really even know that I play music...” He trails off, eyes mimicking his words.

“Oh, I get it. I’m not a friend.” Josh pretends to huff, crossing his arms over his chest. The thought of getting home is nagging at him in the back of his head, but he finds it’s really easy to get lost with Tyler.

Tyler throws his hands into his pockets. “You’re different. .” He replies, and Josh won’t take it the wrong way.  “Anyway,” he takes a step backwards, “I should try and find out where the others went.” He drops his longboard on the ground, and reaches out a hand, waiting for Josh’s. His grip on Josh’s hand tightens as he steps on the board, trying to balance himself. “I’ll see you soon, Josh.” The older shoots a finger gun at him, stepping backwards to his car.

As soon as Josh gets into his car, he pulls out his phone, and notices the slight black smudge on his hand. It feels electric; feels like the skin there just had a Band-Aid ripped off of it. Josh figures he better text Tyler so he can have his number. He turns around in his seat and takes an out-of-focus photo of Tyler skating in the distance. He adds a caption asking who the loser in the photo is before sending it.

A part of Josh is scared that Tyler will run away like a mouse, that their plans of meeting up again won’t work out, or that Tyler noticed him staring at his hands, and that part of him won’t be there next time. Honestly, Josh found him intriguing, in a non-creepy way. He doubts the feeling is mutual, Josh is nothing more than a factory made family man. He smiles at the thought of teaching Connor baseball, or teaching him to be a gentleman. (But hey, who wouldn’t?)

His phone lights up with a text back, maybe he didn’t bore the life out of Tyler.

* * *

 

On Josh’s way home he gets a call. He holds the phone up to his ear, his voice used to the familiarity of Debby’s melodic voice. “Hey babe.” she greets, and it seems as if whenever she talks, he’s thrown into a different world. She’ll read Connor books from the comfort of a rocking chair, and he’s reminded of birds calling in the morning, like they’re supposed to. In reality, all the morning birds Josh hears ca-caw repeatedly with voices like nails. When she laughs, he’s put in front of flames. They’re warm, hidden behind a gate, and he’s transfixed on them as he drinks hot chocolate, family laughing and cheering on Christmas morning.

He’s so caught up in thinking about his love for her that he doesn’t hear her at first. He doesn’t hear her voice change pitch when she drops into a serious topic. “Can you come home quick? I don’t really want to-” she sighs heavily, “I just need you to be here.”

“Okay, yeah. Is something wrong?”

“I just… Just come home soon, okay?”

He comforts her, saying that he’s right outside and hangs up. The closer he gets to the inside of his house, the more he starts to hear the cries of his baby. A part of him kicks into motion, becoming a protective lion for his lioness and cub. He double checks over his shoulder, long lashes blurring particles of his vision. He’s not sure what he’s looking for. Anything, an intruder, a car, some kind of explanation for why his baby is crying and nobody is protecting him.

Josh calls for his wife as he enters the small home. He’s slightly worried when she doesn’t answer, but his mind leads him to the living room where their small son cries from his playpen. Colorful toys lie around him and Josh picks him out, shaking a rattle next to him in order to get the little one to stop crying. “Deb?” He calls out again in between using different strategies to get Connor to quit crying. “You gotta stop crying so we can see mommy.” The brunet coos to his boy, tapping him on the nose. He dips the little one upside down and holds him by his feet, reaching to tickle his stomach. It’s not soon before he’s laughing, and Josh bounces him up and down as he goes to find Debby.

It becomes a lot clearer to think now that Connor has calmed down. Still, he’s worried and has no way to find out where she is, since they usually keep the doors closed. Debby rationalized that it has something to do with temperature, and Josh countered that the room being one-degree cooler wouldn’t hurt Connor.

He must look like a mess to anyone that bothered to wander through their open front door, he’s walking down hallways, in and out of rooms, and he looks twice, to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

“Deb?” He opens the door to a bathroom connected to their bedroom. It’s unnecessarily calm, the only movement is a breeze that rings the curtains. And at first he sees her arms, tan and long, barely holding onto a phone. They roughly lead down to her body. She’s only in underwear, laying under water in a tub, eyes squeezed shut and her blond hair flows underwater, laying against the deep green of their tub. Josh feels his heart tear, confusion and worry ripping him. He hastily puts Connor onto the ground next to him. Quickly, he removes her phone and with his other hand reaches beneath her to lift her from the water. Debby looks innocent and childlike with water droplets running down her pink, swollen eyelids.

Josh wonders how interesting the tile must be, since she’s interested in staring at the wall in front of her instead of facing her family. From his side, Connor hooks a hand onto his pants and makes an ‘o’ sound. “Deb! What the fuck?” He snaps at her. Aside from Connor and the hum of the vents, the only other sound to be heard is water dripping from her light locks. While wet, they make a V shape halfway down her back. She gathers a bundle of hair in her hands and tugs it over her shoulder, raking her fingers through the hair.

“I’m just… so tired Josh. I’m so tired of feeling like shit all the time and constantly hearing that fucking baby cry, and I’m tired of not having enough money. We did this too early, and it’s my fault. I just fuck everything up, J.” By now her eyes are red, cheeks puffy from crying and she sucks in her lower lip when she breathes. “I need help. I called my mom, she’s coming to get me.”

“Whoa, wait. Where are you going?” Debby still hasn’t made eye contact with him, but she tugs on a smile for her little boy. Connor crawls towards her, grabbing her hair and tugging on it. Josh, unwilling to drop the topic, puts the boy in his lap, bouncing the infant up and down to keep him distracted. Debby huffs, biting her cheek in frustration. “I’m staying with her for a few days. I need to get my head sorted out. How long have I been in this fucking house, Josh?”

“What will I do?” He wants to tell her that it’s not fair of her to do this.

“You’ll have to figure it out, won’t you?” She pools water onto her legs.

He’s left speechless, wondering how this woman could be so happy yesterday, and today she’s suddenly manic depressive, and she hasn’t been happy for months. “This is stupid, Debby. Just call it off. You’re being stupid.”

“You know exactly how to help, don’t you?” She groans and reaches past Josh to pull a towel off of the rack.

“Why the fuck are you even in the tub?” Josh lowers his brow in frustration, his shoulders tighten. “Is it for attention? God, I’m late home one fucking day and you try to kill yourself. That’s so like you, to be so selfish.” He stands up, placing Connor against his chest, where the little one tugs at his face and ears. It breaks his heart a little when he hears her crying start up again, and he wants to rush back in, wants to tell Deb ‘I’m sorry. I regret it. Let’s just eat and go to bed. Let’s pretend none of this happened.’

But if she’s serious about this, then she’ll leave and won’t come back. Or she will, and she’ll return better. Hell, he’s never been in this stupid situation before.

Exactly 804 thoughts are running through Josh’s head. He sits in front of Connor who is in a green chair, the lamps above them are dimmer since one bulb has gone out. He plays airplane with Connor’s food to keep him happy, all the while listening for Debby to come down the hallway, dressed in a ponytail and one of his old shirts, telling Josh she’s sorry, or better yet that he’s just been dreaming this whole time. At one point, his mind even pities him, making Josh believe he hears the hum of a hair dryer that wasn’t there at all.

Connor fusses at one point, dodging every attempt at Josh putting the spoon into his mouth. He wonders if while he’s burping the baby, he should attempt to walk up the stairs and say he’s sorry. Then he thinks, why does it always have to be _me_ apologizing? Why am _I_ always the problem? Maybe he should just go for it, though. Just go up there and give her his sad eyes until she forgives him and they make up.

Josh realizes the saddest part about the whole situation is when she walks out the door he stands up, and chases her as fast as he can with a baby in his arms. He’s not sure what he’d even say, a mess between yelling at her that she can’t leave because he can’t go to work and take care of Connor all at once. There’s an irony to it, because he finds out what he wants to say right after she leaves.

“That’s not your parents’ car.”


	2. A Sober Man, A Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josh wants his wife back. Two friends from work help him. He meets a girl who could bring life back to a dead flower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so slow at writing, God! I'm sorry this took so long. Hey, at least I didn't leave you guys hanging forever, right? Commitment!

When Josh was just a bit younger, he would often call into radio stations to win concert tickets. He remembers one of the phones in his house being surrounded by him and his friends, all  excited to hear that they’d won. He remembers Andy’s nose scrunching up at the sound of the busy signal. The teenager would push his glasses back up onto his nose and ask for the phone.

“You’re not doing it right.” Andy would curl his hands into a fist while waiting for the line to pick up. After about four or five calls, Patrick would cross the room to their radio and perch in front of it, waiting for the announcements on who won the contest. Josh, at this point in time covered in zits and piercings, leaned against the wall, watching Andy grow more and more frustrated with the busy signal. “Just give it up, dude. We’re not gonna get the tickets.”

Patrick waved for the other two to meet him when he hears the broadcasters’ voices. He  turned the volume dial up. In the other corner of the room, directly next to the door, the phone hung from its cord repeating the same song. Josh quickly grew annoyed by it, but when he pointed his toe to walk away, he heard a voice on the radio that he knew all too well and stopped in disbelief.

“We are here with the four tickets and backstage passes to Weezer. We’ve got a winner on the other end of this line. What’s your name, caller?” The announcer’s voice was ragged, he sounded like he chain-smoked. Josh imagined he looked radical, combining a backwards cap and a soul patch.

“Joe.” The voice was hard to make out. The guys knew how much Weezer meant to Joe, so they could see that, if it were after all Joe, he would be supporting an affectation of stoicism.

There was an announcement congratulating him on his win. Patrick and Josh shared a look, and Patrick opened his mouth to speak over the noise when he was interrupted. Joe began cheering over the radio, hollering and whooping that he couldn't wait, and he was met with laughs of not only the broadcaster, but also the three boys gathered in Josh’s bedroom. “That’s totally Joe.” Patrick says, turning the dial to its original position.

After Patrick turned off the radio, Andy finally decided to hang up the corded phone. He shook his hair to one side of his head.

“Why do you even have a phone that old, man?” Patrick questioned, setting his glasses aside while leaning back in his chair. The three of them would wait for Joe to walk into the house. Josh wondered if Joe would nonchalantly talk about it, or if he would be jumping off the walls, gathering high fives from his friends.

“I don’t know. My family never decided to switch it. I think it’s pretty cool. Antique is in.” Josh’s cap fell off his hat when he laid back on his bed. The teen bit on his lip piercing when in stress, and he had a lot on his mind right now.

“Joe won four tickets.” Josh stated. He tossed a bright orange tennis ball up in the air repeatedly. A part of him hoped that he wouldn’t be the one cast out, but a part of him also didn’t want to do that to his friends. He thought about sacrificing himself then, or better yet saving himself from the hurt that would’ve come later. Something stopped him. Josh thought maybe fate would have a say in this, so in that moment, he didn’t say anything.

“He did. What about it?” By then, Andy had transferred to the doorway, a head peeking out every so often to check through Josh’s window for their friend. “Do you have short-term memory disorder or something?” The redhead mocked. Josh hadn’t answered, hoping one of the two would figure out what he was trying to elude to.

After seconds of silence, Andy began running a train of thoughts. “I didn’t mean anything by it, man. I’m sorry. You know I’ve been trying to be more of a positive person. I don’t know, I just thought-”

“No, Andy, it’s cool. I mean… there’s five of us...”

“Oh.”

“And Joe only has four tickets.”

“Yeah…” Andy rocked his back on the wall, altogether avoiding the conversation. Josh knew Joe wouldn’t leave Andy anyway.

Patrick let out a soft hum. The youngest looked towards him before his eyes sunk down. Patrick was sweet. He was a pudgy, nerdy, pale, sweet boy. Patrick was the type of boy you'd find at a bakery, downed in a frilly apron and constantly clearing his glasses of the fog from the kitchen.

Without a doubt, Josh could never take Patrick's spot. He had always given his friends compliments, always let Josh hang out with him when the brunet was feeling particularly down, always brought money so the group could go to the candy shop, was always just too fucking nice.

Josh was about to open his mouth and speak whatever he was thinking about. He was thinking of reassuring his friend that he shouldn't fret, he would definitely have a ticket reserved for him. It was a habit Josh was trying to work on. Now that he was an official teenager, he had to work on his social skills a bit more. He didn't end up saying that, for fear of Andy taking it as an attack. Josh simply laid back with his mouth agape, taking deep breaths and exhaling them as yawns.

“Joe’s here.” Andy knocked on the doorway, and then laughed about his action as a way to shake off the awkwardness.

So they gathered, all of them were peeking their heads past the corner to see Joe. Better yet, to see Joe’s golden tickets.

That's why they were disappointed when it wasn't Joe.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._ Then Josh called out that it was open, and in came a smaller teen.

Pete had his eyes on his flip phone from the moment he stepped inside. At the time, his hair was shoulder length and fried to a crisp. Not that Josh’s was any better, but at least he kept it under a ratty old baseball cap.

Funnily enough, he remembers Patrick offering him several knit caps to wear, complaining that Josh’s hat looked like it was thrown in a blender.

“You guys completely left me hangin’!” Pete complained, hands spreading out at his sides and then curling back into fists.

“What?” Josh and Patrick said in unison. This marked the start of a jinx battle, with Patrick stating the other owed him a Coke, and Josh coming back with several retorts, (we’re under a roof, not in this month, it's Opposite Day).

“You said you'd teach me how to skateboard. I sat waiting at the park for like, the past hour!”

“Sorry, Pete.” Patrick said, his cheek smudging against his face from leaning on the doorframe.

Pete scoffed. “I mean, I had to pretend to smoke cigarettes the whole time, and I'm sure everyone thought I was some creep.” Then his mouth curled into a smile. “I only got one girl’s digits.”

Suddenly, Patrick was telling him to fuck off, and Pete tucked his hair behind his ears, walking past the other boys into Josh’s room.

“So really, what’s up?” Pete questioned, snagging a spot on Josh’s bed. The youngest debated on whether he should tell Pete, knowing that one of them would spit it out sooner or later.

It happened sooner. Much sooner. Within a second, Andy was telling the brunet about Joe’s prize. Josh’s mind was still riddled with who the most expendable person in their group was. He took a moment to phase out, eyes drawing over Pete beforehand.

Pete was a kind boy. He was always up to date on gossip, and was playful with his friends. Playful in an asshole kind of way, Josh remarked. But he never meant anything about it; he just wanted to see his friends laugh.

Josh’s mind was like an episode of Survivor, which he remembered being very popular in his group at the time.

The rest of it is a blur, with Josh swallowing his pride and goals to let Pete become the fourth member of the group. The last he remembers is phoning Joe constantly, only to receive a voicemail.

It’s almost ironic that now, years later, he finds himself phoning Joe again. More importantly, he’s struggling to breathe, scared of where his wife is.

The first night, he was okay. Josh took care of Connor easily. He slept on a mat next to the infant’s crib, because when Josh looked at his bed he couldn’t help but remember the mornings spent next to his wife.

The second day he was an absolute wreck. He was getting swarmed with texts from Patrick throughout the day. At first it was asking why Josh had to take an impromptu vacation day. The first few messages that appeared with a _bing!_ were asking if Debby and Connor were okay. He took the time to call Josh, and spoke with him throughout his lunch hour and break. Josh appreciated it untiltowards the end of the call Patrick said he wanted to talk to Josh about his position.

The texts after that Josh barely responded to. He’d react politely, but in all honesty, Josh had one-thousand other things he was trying to get done in those moments.

The worst part of the day was when he cried. During that half-hour, the brunet cried louder than Connor did in the mornings. A strange part of him felt comfort in feeling the tears roll across his nose. With Debby being gone, his whole life had flipped .  He didn’t know how someone could spend years with another person and then just leave. He worried when he couldn’t feel her, first physically and then spiritually. Which was weird, because normally Josh would call spiritual feelings a bunch of bullshit, but there were some parts he found to be true.

On the phone with Joe, he’s a babbling mess, currently taking in deep breaths so the other can’t hear him choking back tears.

“Josh, I’ll be over as soon as I can, okay? It’ll take me a while to get there, but I’ll stay the whole night.”

“Are you sure? You have work. Joe, you have Ruby.”

“It’s fine.” He reassures. “She’ll stay with her mom.”

The recipient yawns, covering up his shaky breathing. In his head, Josh finds that what he’s saying over the phone sounds so cheesy, but he understands now. “I just feel like… something’s been taken from me. I shouldn’t be saying this over the phone, the government could be listening or some bullshit like that.”

“What’ll they do? Pity you?” Joe suggests. The two of them are alike in that sense, they use humor to mask their feelings.

“They might. Joe?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it stupid for me to say I feel lost?” Josh laughs to himself. He’d wipe his tears, but Connor is teething on his fingers. “God, I’ve gotta look so emo right now.”

“You’re really scared about this, huh? Hasn’t she done this before?”

“I mean, sometimes she goes out with her friends and doesn’t return until the morning after, but at least then she’s back!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Joe puts his phone down on the desk in front of him. He leans back in his chair and swipes his hands over his face. A foot away from him, he can hear Josh’s defenses.

“We got over that long ago.” He said first.

“She’s changed, okay?” Josh defended when Joe didn't respond.

“She’s not a little kid, she’s responsible.” The words all tumble out of his mouth like a circus. Joe is reminded now of a joke he was told by Pete long ago. Something about grave robbers digging up a hatchet. He doesn’t want to go here, not on the phone, not when Josh is at his worst, but he also doesn’t want Josh to be so freaked out. He drops the subject. “It’s okay, Josh. I understand.”

It takes Josh a few seconds to respond, and when he does, he asks when Joe will be over. “I’ll be there in about an hour. D’you want me to pick up Patrick, too?”

“Three’s a crowd.” In Josh's head, he debates saying that it would technically be four.

“Is that a no?”

“He’s been more of my boss than my friend today.” His pronunciation gets messed up when Connor pulls at his lip.

Josh cleans up as much as he can. The sun is going to set soon and he finds that he's been in his pajamas all day, so why not just switch into different ones?

Josh puts on a movie for Connor and doesn't exactly feel like himself when he hears the car pulling up to his house. He tries to tell himself that it's just his friend, that he's known Joe forever, and that Joe is just here to help. Still, Josh finds that when he passes a reflective surface he wants to vomit at the sight of himself. How did he manage to lose it so quickly?

Josh sees two people get out of the car and releases a sigh, hoping he won't have to deal with door to door sellers right now. He opens the door, looks at the ground, and, in his most groggy voice, announces he doesn't want to buy any books.

“Not even some TLC?” It's the same voice from the phone, from the radio, from all those nights spent outside the pool club. Josh looks up for a second, mouth open, trying to find a breath of air.

“I'm sorry guys, I'm a bad host. Come inside.” He finds a joke inside of him. Josh feels a weight drop onto his chest, he's tired of crying. Josh puts on a smile as Patrick comes in wearing a backpack.

He's excused himself to the bathroom while the two others coo at his son. As he's scrolling through his call list again, Josh begins to feel faint. Instantly, he regrets allowing Joe to come over. He should've known that Joe would bring Patrick. God dammit, he asked him not to!

Wasn’t he just saying he felt a bit happier? Josh squeezes his eyes shut, telling himself that this isn’t sadness, he genuinely feels sick.

“Debby, please answer. Please…” he's humming into the phone. Josh is rolling his head back and forth against the cabinet in a way to calm himself. If he's being honest, he doesn't know why he's freaking out. Something in him just wants to feel okay and wants things to return to how they were.

“Josh, c’mon man… I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm here to help.” He feels Patrick’s cold hands grip his, trying to slide the phone away from him. Josh shivers from the cold, but allows his phone to be taken anyway.

Josh sees Patrick as his boss. He's wearing a long-sleeved button up, what he’s worn almost every day at work. His tie hangs off of his chest, and his large glasses are dipping a little bit off of his nose. The man on the floor worries that Patrick will scroll through his phone, that he'll see the calls he's made, mark him as crazy, and fire him. Patrick will say something like, “The boss told me we have to drop a lot of people.” Something about budget cuts, probably.

Fuck, why is Josh such a fucking baby? Why did he have to call her so many times? He’ll end up on My Crazy Ex or something for this.

Patrick places his phone on the counter, and sits down next to Josh cross-legged. “Don't worry about Connor. Joe's got him.” Patrick reaches around Josh and pulls him closer. Josh is dipping his head into the soft fabric that makes up Patrick's shirt. He smells nice, he always did. “I'm tired of crying, Patrick. I don't know why this has fucked me up so much.”

“You care about her a lot.” He's got a hand rubbing circles on his back, the way Josh remembers his mother doing. In moments like these, Josh almost wants to shut himself off from the world. It's embarrassing to see him, a father, the man of the house, crying. Not to mention having to be held by one of his best friends.

“You just need to get your mind off of her for now…” Patrick leads, and Josh moves his head up to rest on his shoulder. “Joe and I are staying here  for the night. We’ll help you get feeling better.”

“This sounds like the beginning of a really bad porno.” Josh smiles. In any other situation, Patrick would be shaking his head, put off by his friend’s immaturity. He's honestly just happy to hear a joke come out of the man, and responds with: “‘m gonna fix your kitchen sink.”

“I don't have any money!” Josh lifts his head, eyes crinkled.

“Well, there's other forms of payment out there.” Patrick helps his friend stand, and pulls him in for a hug. “You're going to be okay, Josh. I know you.”

Josh woke up in the middle of the night. He felt the need to check on Connor, even though his monitor was quiet as ever. Josh stands over his son’s crib, rocking it back and forth gently. The baby was fast asleep, a contradiction to what Josh had predicted the night would be like.

Just a few hours ago Joe was checking the temperature of the baby bottle before handing it to Patrick. The blue-eyed man sat with a baby in his arms, frustrated after Josh and Joe had told him he had to since he was the most feminine. Patrick retorted that with how much time Joe spends on his hair, he should be the one sitting here.

Nonetheless, Patrick cradled Connor in his arms. “I don't know a damn thing about babies.” Joe whispered the word damn, as to not hurt the pure ears of the child. During that moment, Connor was hurting all of their ears with his cries.  

“My mom said that you pick up pretty quickly on what their different cries mean. I guess it's an X-chromosome linked thing, because I have absolutely no clue. They all just sound like baby cries.” Josh shrugged.  Debby probably knew what it meant.“He kind of looks like you.” Patrick replies. “He's got your eyes.” Patrick lifted the baby a bit to burp him, handing the bottle off to Joe.

“I bet you wish he looked like Deb, right?” Patrick asked, his eyes traveled from a leaving Joe to a stationed Josh.

“Honestly? I'm happy to have him at all. He's the reason I got out of bed this morning.”

“That father-son bond. ‘No crying in baseball.’” Patrick joked, rocking Connor in his arms.

When the baby begins to wiggle and pout, he's transferred to his crib, where the three men coo and watch him fall asleep.

Josh started the alien mobile above the crib. When Joe mentioned how weird it was, Patrick pointed out that originally Josh wanted to paint the room to look like outer space.

“And I will, one day.” Josh declared. Under his breath, he made a promise.

“Connor, I'm gonna give you the stars.”

Patrick yawned, throwing an arm over Joe’s shoulders.

“First date arm?” Joe laughed.

“‘M just really tired. Might fall asleep on you tonight.”

“Gay. Josh, where are we gonna crash?”

Josh blew up an old mattress. Originally, he'd asked them to just sleep on the bed, and that he would take the couch, but they complained and whined about wanting to watch movies in the living room, so Josh gave up and, as quietly as he could (which wasn’t very), inflated a mattress stashed in his closet.

Josh still hasn't figured out why he's awake again. He hears a screaming, and a fizzing sound like ice being shattered, or like a cut wire. The father leaves his sons crib and transfers to the window in his living room.

People are outside. Teenagers, playing in the dark. Two are in a shopping cart, legs kicking out of opposite directions, all-American bright white smiles on their faces. Three others chase after the person pushing the cart. They've got sparklers and bags of firecrackers in their hands. Josh hesitates, and takes a step outside.

Fuck it, right? Josh figures it's better to go yell at some people instead of let his baby wake up crying again. He reaches above his head and turns on the porch light, which makes one of the people in the cart frantic.

“Shit! Abort mission! We've awakened the old people!” A girl shouts. She hops out of the cart, running between two houses with the rest of their crew. There's only two people left. It's someone left in the cart in what appears to be a hoodie and jeans, and the other person with blonde hair trying to pull them out.

Josh approaches them, sleep deprived and losing his mind. “Listen guys, I'm not here to call the cops on you or anything, but-” he stops mid-sentence when he's interrupted.

“Yo, Josh, are you out here?” Joe shouts from Josh’s doorway. Josh flashes him an ‘okay’ hand signal, hoping his friend will just go back inside.

When Josh turns back, one of the kids is walking through bouncy grass that brings a nice sound to Josh’s ears. “Wait… oh it is! It's you! Josh!” Tyler's here, a baseball cap on his head, which he takes off in case Josh has forgotten his face. Which he hasn't. Tyler sent him several pictures of his face from a chin angle after they met the other day.

Josh thought about calling him. He'd ask when they could hang out, but he held off because he didn't want to be too intrusive. Josh really wanted to call him on the first day when he needed a distraction.

Of course, going out to harass Tyler's friends in the middle of the night could be considered a bit intrusive.

“It’s me.” Josh, hands tucked into his jacket, gestures to show that it's him in his full, depressive glory.

“Ah, I was gonna text you tomorrow. Let’s chat, kitty-cat.” He tips his head to the side before placing the cap back on his head. Tyler walks close to Josh, and when he yawns it looks like dragon’s breath against the night air.

Josh looks towards his doorway as they transfer away from Tyler’s friends, and it seems like Joe's gone back to sleep, because he can't hear any crying or yelling. He's not gonna lie, Josh is kind of grateful that Tyler and his cool kids gang don't hear his baby. At the same time, he wants to show off his adorable baby boy to everyone.

When Josh returns to his thoughts, he looks back to Tyler. “Text me about what?” The blonde, a girl who the boy in the cart calls Jenna, is treating her friend’s injury, talking to the boy in a baby voice.

Tyler finds a nice yard, and lays down in the grass. “It's past my bedtime.” He yawns. Josh hugs his knees, sitting next to him. “I was gonna ask if you'd like to go check out this sushi place with me.”

“Aren't all sushi joints typically the same?”

“I've never had sushi.” He yawns.

Tyler pats the spot next to him. “Lay down, old man. I'm tired and cold. And I don’t want to be the only one layin’ in the grass right here. Shit looks awkward.” Josh lays back, hoping he won’t fall asleep.

“I've only had sushi like, once? Can't remember.” Josh throws his arms over his head. He sure hopes that whoever lives here doesn't catch them.

“Yeah… My friends don't want to go with me. You're my second choice.” Tyler turns to Josh, eyelids drooping open every so often.

“Wow, I'm feeling the love over here.”

“Be happy you were in my top eight at all.” Tyler slurs. Josh’s eyelids sink at the reference. He asks god to smite him now, save him from this.

“Anyway… I walked so much today Josh. I'm so tired.”

“Do you have a ride home?” Josh asks.

“I don't even know where I am. We were supposed to go to a party… and then my friends… they… just want to get high, that's all they want. And we started walking. We walked to Walmart. We walked through the woods, but that was… earlier. Daylight. Sunset.” He drifts off, eyes closed and breathing soft.

Josh holds a hand over him, wondering whether to shake him awake or not. He could just give him five minutes to sleep, but Tyler could be a really heavy sleeper. When his arm feels, heavy, he runs his hands through Tyler’s hair in what he hopes is a comforting way.

Suddenly the blonde girl, Jenna is walking towards them.

“Did he fall asleep on you?” She asks, throwing her head back to put her hair in a ponytail.

“He did.” Josh sees his vision start to get blurry as well, and sits up, hoping to shake himself awake.

“I guess we gotta take the little guy home.” She kneels next to Tyler and gives him a dramatic kiss on the cheek, shaking him awake.

“Come on Ty.” She says. Her laugh sounds like sunshine, Josh notices. When Tyler eventually gets up, he's turned his hat backwards and has his arms wrapped around his waist, as if to have her guide him so he can continue sleeping.

“Tyler?” Josh calls from the grass they were laying in. “I'll go with you.”

“Hardcore.” Tyler barely responds. Jenna laughs at him.

“Shit. What did I just agree to?” Josh whispers to himself as he crosses the street to get back to his house. Tyler, Jenna, and the rest of their friends have packed themselves into a pickup truck. Jenna waves a goodbye from the back, a sparkler in her opposite hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel kind of iffy on this first chapter, I'm not sure if it's too over the top or not. I spent about a month trying to work on this, but hopefully this does well and I'll be motivated to work more on this. Thank you so much for reading, please feel free to give any comments!


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